Nicknamia
by Kikilu Banner
Summary: "Weasel King, Potty, Granger" Why doesn't Draco have a nickname for Hermione?


**I don't like this couple too much, but I couldn't resist writing it!**

**Disclaimer: Me no own Harry Potter**

**Set in OotP (Order of the Phoenix) some people don't know what OotP means! *laughs to herself***

_Why doesn't he have a nickname for me?_ Hermione thought one day, _There's Potty for Harry, and Weasel King for Ron. What about me? "Granger." That's all he thinks of me. Not worthy of a nickname._

"Hermione," Harry said at dinner when she was thinking about her nickname problem, "If you're thinking about what I think you're thinking, stop thinking it."

"What?"

"You know. About you're 'nickname' problem with Malfoy," he answered.

"I _do not_ have a nickname problem with Malfoy!" Hermione hissed.

"You call me, Granger?"

_Oh, speak of the devil…_ Hermione thought as she pretended to be annoyed.

"No, Malfoy. Now go on your way before I punch you again!"

"Ah, ah, ah! I'm a prefect! You can't hit me, or I'll give you detention!"

"Er- Hermione, I have to go to my lesson. Bye," Harry said. He doesn't like being in the middle of a Draco-Hermione fight.

"Git, I'm a prefect, too," she said with a forced death glare.

"I'm part of the Inquisitorial Squad! And that's 20 points from you. Oh, and 10 for being a Mudblood," Malfoy said as he left.

"Oh, how I hate him," Hermione said to herself.

_No, I don't. It's impossible to hate him. If he would just give me a nickname! Oh, I need some sleep._

Hermione closed _Hogwarts, A History_ for the hundredth time, and headed to her dormitory. As usual, Fred and George were showing off their Skiving Snackboxes, and Lee was taking the preorders. Hermione decided that she wouldn't waste energy on telling them off.

The next morning was a Saturday, and by noon, Hermione couldn't hold her frustration in. She absolutely _had_ to find Draco Malfoy, and tell him about the nickname problem.

She looked first in the dungeons. She asked Snape where Malfoy was.

"Miss Granger, I do not make it my business to know the whereabouts of young Mr. Malfoy. Oh, and also, ten points from Gryffindor for loitering."

_That foul man,_ Hermione thought when he went back into his office.

Then she searched out Pansy Parkinson.

"Parkinson, where's your boyfriend?" she asked.

"Oh, Draco's not my boyfriend, yet. He soon will be though! Why are you looking for him anyway, Granger?" Pansy answered.

"Can you just tell me where he is!"

Pansy looked surprised at Hermione's tone. She had never yelled at her before (**I think?**)

"H-He should be by the Owlery. He left five minutes ago."

Hermione didn't bother saying thank you and sped off to the Owlery. There he was. They almost ran into each other.

"Watch where you're going, Granger!"

"Malfoy, why didn't you make a name for me? It's always 'Granger' or 'Mudblood.' Harry and Ron get 'Potty' and 'Weasel King!' So why don't you-"

"Granger. _Granger_, stop. I'll tell you why you don't have a nickname. I can't find anything suitable for you. Are you happy now?" Malfoy said as he left.

"No, I am certainly _not happy!_"

She stormed off to the library, and just sat by the window.

_He'd've locked himself in his common room by now. I won't be able to see him till tomorrow. "Can't find anything suitable?" What does he mean by that? Why does he have to make this more complicated?_

At dinner, Ron being sick in bed, Harry asked about her nickname.

"It was weird. All he said was that he couldn't find anything suitable for me. What do you think about it, Harry?"

"I have no bloody idea. He's a complicated bloke, Malfoy, but just try harder."

Hermione woke up extra early, knowing that Malfoy eats breakfast alone and early. She found his white blonde head picking at eggs at the Slytherin table, completely alone except for a few ghosts.

"Granger, if you're going to ask about the nicknames again, don't bother," he said before she even opened her mouth.

"What do you mean, 'anything suitable?' What doesn't 'Ginger' work? Or maybe, 'Grossger?' Why can't you find a nickname for me?"

"Because… I can't insult your name. Potter, sure. Weasley, of course. But you, Hermione, I can't mess up your name," he said. Hermione felt a strange chill when he said her first name.

"Draco," she said, deciding that it would be fine to use first names, "I have no idea why that bothers me, but it _does_. I don't like it."

"It's probably because you like me."

"What? I-I don't like you! I-I-I-" she started to say, but was cut off by a kiss. It was a fast one. As soon as it was there it was gone.

"Do you like me now?" he said, smirking.

Hermione couldn't get the words out. She merely nodded and he kissed her again. And again. And again. Her arms were so tight around his neck, that she could hold her own. One of his arms around her waist, the other in her bushy hair. They would've stayed that way if only a Mr. Potter didn't come into the Great Hall and shout, "Hermione!"

She didn't want to break away, and somehow knowing he didn't either, but they couldn't stay wrapped in each other's arms while Harry was walking towards them.

"So," Harry said, grinning, "Did you know that there a lot of broom closets in the school, and that they're usually empty this early?"

"Thanks, Potter," Malfoy said, taking Hermione's hand and pulling her out of the hall.

_Dear Merlin, thank you. Much love, Hermione._

**Like I said, not a **_**huge**_** fan of this coupling, but it was fun to write. **

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